A Building in the Woods
by rockandroll1987
Summary: This is based on a crush, and has evolved into a fanfiction. It uses no specific names, so can be applied to any situation that fits the readers' tastes. Please enjoy!


The footpath to his place in the woods was well-worn and dark with rain. Moss hung in sheets from the tree branches and squished beneath my boots as I walked. The row of brick shelters stood near the path, the ground cover growing right up their sides. Each one was distinguishable; decorated with flags, banners, and birdhouses. I went up to the one that I presumed was his, considering the various antique trinkets hanging out front. I approached to the rough-cut wooden door and knocked.

He answered with a smile, a bowl of popcorn in his hand. "Hey!"

"Hi!" responded gaily. "I like your place!"

"Oh, I know," he said, stepping out, barefooted, onto the rock serving as a front step. He turned and gestured to the building. "I actually really like it."

"They've got you living in boxes out in the woods, and it is _way_ better than it sounds," I confirmed.

He laughed. "Absolutely. Come on, I'll show you the inside." So I followed him, being careful not to slip on his front porch/rock, and closed the door behind me.

College dorm room meets 1970's teenage girl's bedroom. Rust-colored shag carpet, bare brick walls, and dozens of posters taped up, overlapping each other. The only piece of furniture, a charcoal gray recliner, was pushed against one end wall, with pillows and cushions scattered on the floor around it. The small TV on the back wall, facing the recliner, was playing some old animated show. I slipped my shoes off as he walked in front of me, munching popcorn. "I was just watching some old cartoons."

"Oh yeah, man, I love this one," I replied as he smiled and took a seat. I settled down on the floor, on a seat of pillows, and leaned against the recliner. It was cozy, the entire place warm and lit only by the television and a couple of lamps. After a few minutes of sharing popcorn and giggling at the low-quality cartoon, I crawled up onto the huge recliner. I would've liked to hear why the room was decorated this way. Above my head, a tiny chandelier dangled and swished with the breeze from the space heater.

There was space between the arm of the chair and his thigh, so I gladly settled myself there. He didn't seem at all bothered, so I stretched my right arm behind his head, resting in on the cushion.

"You mind if my arm's there?" I asked innocently. He shook his head. We watched in silence for a while, me constantly stealing glances at him before I made up my mind. What's the worst that could happen? I placed my left hand tentatively on his knee.

His eyebrows flicked up ever so slightly, surprised but not disturbed. I figured it was a good idea to play the innocent card again, so I asked, "You mind if my hand's here?"

He offered a small chuckle. "No, not at all."

My hand crept slowly up his leg. Curious and amused, his eyes watched until it came to rest at his hip.

"How about here?"

Again, a smile and the expected response. "I don't mind." His voice was quieter, like he was afraid he'd break something. Slowly, I moved my right hand across the upholstery and to his neck, resting it there. My other hand moved back towards his knee, my nails grazing his blue jeans. I pushed off his leg, slowly, watching his face. His legs spread easily as I leaned over, tilting his head with my right hand. _Innocent_ , I told myself. So I kissed his cheek. He let out the smallest breath, just for a second, before I pulled away. His eyes were still open, but I could feel his leg relaxing under my hand. I pushed it back, spreading them farther and leaning for his cheek once again. The next one landed on the corner of his mouth, and finally, I went for his lips. Open and expectant, just like I'd knew they'd be, and whatever gentle, careful mood that I had manifested was quickly gone. His hands moved quickly, one coming to rest on my waist and one running through my hair. I held his head in my right hand, my left migrated to the hem of his shirt, and I moved down to his neck, swirling my tongue in a lazy circle just below his jawbone. I could feel his breath against my ear as he moved for another kiss.I began to straddle him, but he pushed my waist back, holding me down. He smiled. I settled into his relaxed frame, my right hand still gripping his neck and my left working its way under his shirt. I got a grip on the hem and pulled it over his head. Grinning, he obediently lifted his arms for me to take it off. His shirt on the floor, I began to slowly untuck my own, but I didn't take it off. Not yet.

He looked at me knowingly, and spoke for the first time in minutes. "You wanna do this?" He spoke quickly, somewhat frantically.

In response, I grabbed one of his hands in each of mind and put them on the hem of my shirt. As soon as it was off, he put a finger under my chin for another kiss, using a hand to pull my right leg around until I straddled him, finally. His tongue prodded mine and trailed across my jawbone to my neck as I let out a slow, shaky breath. He slowly dragged his lips back up to mine. His hands went to his zipper and I pulled off my bra as he shoved his pants down and off his hips. I wrapped a hand eagerly around him and began slowly, listening to his breathing. He leaned forward, raking his nails slowly down my back. His hot breath on my shoulder felt delicious.

I grabbed his face with my other hand and pulled it to mine, pushing him back against the chair as I slowed the motions of my other hand. I dragged my tongue down the front of his neck and slowly, ever so slowly sank to the floor until I sat on my heels in front of him, my pants unbuttoned and my neck red from his teeth. Watching his face, I took one of his hands and placed it on the back of my head. I held it there with my left hand and trailed my right up and down his leg. Never breaking eye contact, I sucked him gently, teasing, watching him take shallower breaths as the seconds dragged on. I licked my lips gladly and ran my mouth down the side of him, getting a tiny, suppressed moan in response. I spoke into his skin, my lips grazing.

"Let me hear you moan, sexy," I whispered. "I know you're not usually this quiet."

He clenched a fistful of my hair and tilted my head up. "And I don't _usually_ have a girl this hot making me beg for it, now, do I?"

"I suppose not," I responded. His right hand had wandered, but I grabbed it and held the wrist of it against the chair. The fingers of his other hand, tangled hopelessly into my mess of hair, pushed my head into him. I dragged my mouth down the side of him again, faster this time, before letting him in deeper. He moaned, swore, and shoved my head farther down. I paused to lick my lips before wrapping my mouth around him again, tightening my lips and opening my throat. His chest heaved and he suddenly yanked my head away. I looked up innocently, knowing full well what was wrong.

"I thought you wanted to fuck me," he said desperately.

"Very much so, yes."

"Then you may want to get up here before I pull you up myself."

He couldn't take it anymore, and I loved it. So I stood and took a seat on the edge of the chair, between his knees, my back to him. Our hands impatiently worked my pants off. He grabbed my hips and yanked me back, his hard on now resting between my legs. I slid him into me with one hand and gripped his leg with the other. He groaned, his hands relaxing and letting me rest in his lap. I moved my hips in a slow circle, and he kissed my shoulder distractedly between groans. His hands slid weakly down my legs as he relaxed, leaning against me. I arched my back, loving how warm he was. His hands gripped my waist almost painfully, moving me up and down again as I braced my hands on his knees. I moaned sporadically, trying to hold my composure, but he wouldn't stop lifting up my waist and slamming me down again.

Pushing my head to the side, he sucked and bit my shoulder. I flung my hair to the side until it hung down and tickled my legs. He put one hand under my thigh and ran the other up the center of my back, coming to rest around a fistful of hair. I gripped the edge of the chair and tilted my head back with a whimper. He wrapped his hands around my torso and pulled me back as I grabbed his arms, sinking onto him deeper and deeper. His hands went roughly back to my waist and I helped him lift me from his lap and drop down again.

"You're going to make me come," I told him between labored breaths. "…so hard."

I heard the smile in his voice as he choked out, "You feel amazing."

He rammed my hips up and down, my waist red from his tightly gripping fingers. I tensed, feeling him slow. He leaned up and I turned to meet his open mouth, moaning into it. He pulled away abruptly, a groan climbing out of his throat. He tensed, eyes closed, before I felt his hands relax and fall to my legs. I reached down again, my hand hot and desperate on my sweating skin. My whole body clenched around him and my mouth opened, my dry lips whispering out his name.

I relaxed against his chest. His hands traced lazily up and down, from my neck to my thighs and back again.

"Jesus," I managed after a few minutes. Shifting his arms, I swung my legs up under me and curled up against the arm of the chair, one arm still around his neck.

"That was pretty awesome," he told me matter-of-factly. He leaned down, retrieved my jeans and underwear, and laid them on the arm of the chair behind me.

"Thanks," I said. He leaned over and gave me a little kiss, just a peck. But I pulled him in and kissed him for what felt like ten minutes, until he lay on top of me, his hands braced against the chair. He pulled away and rested his head on my stomach. I combed my fingers through his hair, from the cowlick at his forehead to the nape of his neck. He looked up and glanced to the clock on the wall.

"Almost time for lunch," he said, and sat up. "I'm going to get clothes and some food. You want some?" He asked sincerely, gesturing to the small refrigerator in the corner. I nodded and picked up my clothes from the floor. Staring the whole time, he handed me my bra and blouse and pulled his own jeans back on.


End file.
